


your hands around my waist, that's on my mind

by cloudchasers_xx



Series: for a long time, i've wanted to do something [3]
Category: Designated Survivor (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Kidnapping, Male-Female Friendship, emily is a traitor, emily negative, hurt aaron shore, no beta we die like hannah wells, one fic of thomas adam kirkman being a dad, pre Aaron/Hannah, protective hannah wells, the entire senior staff is like family, the second relationship tag is already a spoiler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24063589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudchasers_xx/pseuds/cloudchasers_xx
Summary: come hell or high water, hannah's going to bring aaron back.❝ it's a bittersweet feelinglonging and i'm leavingi go, i go, i go ❞
Relationships: Aaron Shore & Hannah Wells, Damian Rennett & Emily Rhodes
Series: for a long time, i've wanted to do something [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714870
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. russian spies and cinnamon rolls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hideous_Sun_Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hideous_Sun_Demon/gifts).



> this is the longest fic i have ever written,, i'm proud. i can't feel my wrist oops

_thirty six hours earlier_

In the evening, the subway station was a seething mass of humanity. Everyone from every walk of life was shoulder to shoulder, in each other's faces, no personal space, no exceptions. Now in the dead of the night, there are only a few commuters, all so wrapped up with their own devices, they don’t notice Emily.

No one ever does.

But Aaron did. Aaron, who cared too much, gave too much, loved her too much, was now against her. Emily felt conflicted, whether it was her fault for revealing her hand too soon, or it was Hannah’s fault for digging up on her. It was Hannah’s fault, she decided as she stepped off the Capitol south station, since it was always easier to pin the blame on someone else. In the end, it always came down to the three of them.

Emily strolled outside, after all, she wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere. Another cloudy night rolled in covering the last of the twilight sky, as if the blackness failed to come fast enough. The rolling grey rapidly becomes as invisible as the stars it concealed, but the air still felt humid. She could see the Capitol from her view, ignoring the cars that passed her by. The almost too familiar ringing tone pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Where are they?” Emily answered the call, walking towards a hotel she had found on the internet.

“No hello, my love?” Chase Ardelean remarked as Emily rolled her eyes. The man was a good asset and agent, but a coquette. He did have the kind face that would stop anyone in their tracks, despite what gender, which was what made Emily notice him in the first place.

“No time for your flirting, Chase. Where are they?” Emily snapped, emphasizing on the last word as she checked into the hotel, smiling to the clerk as she collected her room key.

“Răbdare, papusa. They’re at Sandy Point.” Chase sighed. “I’ll snap a few photographs and leave it at your hotel. I have to get back to the Agency. La revedere, deocamdată.”

“Pa atunci.” Emily greeted, stepping into the hotel room. This was no "chocolate on the pillow" hotel. The receptionist smelled of stale perfume and the tables had ashtrays instead of flowers. It was dingy, dark and cheap. Perfect. Now, she just had to buy red paint, and wait.

* * *

_ present time _

"I got here as fast as I could." Seth said, bursting into the room as Lyor awkwardly trailed behind him, Kendra not far behind. "What's going on and why do you two smell like smoke?" 

"They smoked. That shit is disgusting." Amy commented, sitting on the couch. "And our house got broken into by some kid named Emily?" A string of colourful curses came out of Lyor's mouth.

"You, Hannah Wells, are a magnet for trouble." Kendra pointed her finger at Hannah. Hannah chuckles as Tom enters the room. 

"Aaron, I came as quickly as I could. What's up?" Tom asked, walking into Aaron's office as Mike stood at the side. Aaron handed a dossier on Emily to Tom, together with a few printed photographs of the writing and the photographs on Hannah's wall. "Emily's back, and she broke into our apartments." 

"Both of yours?" Tom asked, wearing his glasses. "Jesus." Tom sighed as he looked at the photographs of Aaron and Hannah at the beach. "What were you guys doing anyways?"

Amy snorted in the background as she changed her sitting arrangement in a way that she sat on the armrest of Aaron's couch, playing with her phone. "They were on a date."

"We were not, Amy." Both Aaron and Hannah hissed. "I'm booking the next flight to England for you." Amy grumbled, but she went back to her phone. Hannah felt Tom's questioning gaze and decided to introduce that little shit. "That's Agent Rennett's daughter, Amy. She's been staying with me."

"Well, did she hear anything?"

"Nope, was sleeping. You can just ask me the question, y'know. I'm not a baby, old man." Amy snarked, looking up from her phone, glaring at Tom, making Kendra and Lyor chuckle. "That kid has balls of steel, I swear." Lyor whispered to Seth, who nodded in agreement. "Balls of steel indeed, Lyor."

* * *

Aaron decided to go for a walk to clear his head, despite Secret Service agents warning him to stay in the building. He figured that Emily wouldn't hurt him, would she? It was a question that had always lingered at the back of his mind, even though he claimed that he had moved on, it seems like all the questions he had about Emily would go unanswered. 

He took a shortcut towards his apartment complex, breathing in the damp, stale air as he walked through the alleyway, the feeling that someone was watching him settling in. He had endured small things when he was under Langdon, so this wasn't different.

He continued walking like he hadn't sensed anything, squaring his shoulders as he walked closer to the end of the alleyway, which was a bakery. He was starving, and no doubt Hannah could use a treat, probably a box of cinnamon rolls. A shoe scrap had startled him out of his thoughts, and Aaron started walking faster, while still trying to keep a calm composure, even though his heart was pounding so aggressively in his chest he thought it might bounce out. 

He started picking up the pace, the bakery only ten meters in front of him when a hand was placed on his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Aaron's heart seized in horror before biting the hand, on instinct, until he tasted blood, when a prickly feeling, possibly a needle, was stabbed into his neck. _God_ , Aaron thought as he struggled to fight off his captors, _nonononono..._

"Miss me, Aaron?" Emily Rhodes' voice was the last thing he heard before blacking out.

* * *

Hannah stood at the White House balcony, smoking another pack while Kendra stood next to her, looking at the city lights despite it being four in the morning. "Did you ever think that if you haven't met someone, your life would be drastically different?" Kendra asked, admiring the view from her favorite spot in one of the White House balconies. It wasn't well known to the staff, which made a perfect destress place without anyone interrupting, unless it was an emergency.

"Maybe, I don't try to dwell on it too much." Hannah sighed, pent up frustration coming out in breaths of smoke. "Because I know that if I do, I'll probably never let them go."

Just when Kendra was about to speak again, Mike came running to the room. “Agent Wells, we were unable to track down Emily Rhodes, so as of right now, you, Mr Shore and Ms Bleecker are under twenty four hour protection. You must have a Secret Service Agent with you at all times but right now, the President needs both of you in Command Ops." Mike breathed, not noticing the choked up look on Hannah's face. 

"Oh… fucking god." Hannah whispered as the trumping of her heart became faster and faster, the fear was almost paralyzing as she fumbled around for her phone, before pressing one - she had Aaron on speed dial, of course - the ringing and ringing not making it any better for any of them. "Jesus Christ, fuck. Come on, Aaron." Hannah whispered, clutching the phone as if it was her lifeline. Aaron was her lifeline, he had always been there for her, as she had always been there for him. She must've called for more than five times, hands trembling as it went straight to voicemail every single time, Kendra's face as white as a sheet. At the same time, Mike received a call, and the look on his face was all the confirmation she needed. 

“Agent Wells, you need to follow me now, for now Ms Bleecker will be staying with Kendra.” Mike casted his eyes downwards.

“Kendra…”

“Hannah, go. Aaron needs you more right now.” Kendra said, patting her hand before Hannah ran off with Mike to Command Ops.

* * *

“What do we know?” Tom asked as soon as he entered Command Ops. The atmosphere, the feeling, was the same. For the rest, this is another day at work, where abductions and murders are normal, but for a few handful, including himself, this is a friend he’s talking about, a man who has supported him since his first day of presidency and will no doubt support him until his last.

“She just sent in a video, so right now we’ve got IT and Chuck Russink tracking her location.” John Foerstel said, pointing to the screen as Hannah scrapped her palms so hard it drew blood.

"Show me the video she posted." Tom ordered.

They brought up the video, and Hannah had to suppress a gasp. The place was dark and foggy, and looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. There was a door, one that looked much like any other cupboard, except it lacked the usual grubby marks about the handle. Mold was growing against the wall, and in the middle of all the mess was Aaron, gagged and tied to a chair which looked like it was going to break any second, his face pale and bruised, his eyes closed. Hannah let out a shuddering sigh, before clenching her fist and forcing herself to look at him because they might not get him back and it might be the last time Hannah would see his face-

Hannah mentally shook that traitorous thought out of her mind as they pressed play. “President Kirkman,” Emily chuckled. They couldn’t see her but they could hear her voice, “By now you must know that your dearest National Security Advisor is with me. He looks so pretty tied up, doesn’t he?” There’s a pause, and Emily appears, wielding a tactical knife, before resting it on Aaron’s neck as he tries to squirm away, but to no avail. Hannah looks in trepidation, her gut twisting as Emily smirks at the camera. “What I want is an extradition to Indonesia or a country of my choice and six hundred million US dollars. Meet us at Sandy Point. I don’t get those two things by seven in the morning, today, you can say adios to your boy here, especially you, Agent Wells.”

“Motherfucker.” Tom whispered before John interrupted. “What are your orders, sir?” 

“I want all intelligence agencies in the country looking for Aaron Shore. Why Indonesia though?”

“The USA doesn’t have an extradition treaty with Indonesia. She’ll be able to bribe Indonesian officials, plus Rhodes' father owns many holdings in Southeast Asia, so they’re looking at a slap on the wrist." Hannah explained, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. “But will you, sir?”

“Will I what, Agent Wells?”

“Pay the ransom.” Hannah uttered, looking at the President as her heart seized, a feeling that didn't sit well with her stomach as she clenched her fists even tighter.

“If all else fails, Agent Wells,” Tom sighed, looking at the screen, “we’ll be paying the ransom. The clock starts now. Four hours start now.”

* * *

Aaron opened his eyes groggily, before remembering what had happened. Someone had stabbed him in the neck with a needle while he was walking to the apartment. Aaron strained against the zip ties, blood running over the translucent plastic, red on white as he tried masking his fear. His heart was hammering against his chest, ragged breathing and widened eyes. His fingers were curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm, drawing blood. He tried not to scream, even though every instinct was telling him to. Aaron clenched his fist even tighter, after the thought that no one might find him, or his captors might kill him, entered his mind. Hearing the sudden footsteps, Aaron stopped trying to break the zip ties. He took the time to study the surroundings. The place was foggy and had mold growing on the walls with a door at the side. The entire room felt musky. 

"Mr Shore. So glad you're awake." Damian commented as he entered the room with a foldable chair, the entire idea would have been laughable if Aaron wasn't scared shitless. Damian took a seat in front of Aaron, grinning like a madman as he wielded a Swiss Army knife. If Aaron wasn't scared before, he was definitely scared now. 

The knife sat precariously on Aaron's skin, soft enough to not pierce his neck, hard enough to enforce the intended message. The harsh metal should have been cold and raw against his bare skin, but Aaron’s numb body could not feel anything. His throat and heart held in a silver grasp, and all he could do was stare lifelessly at the brown eyes that held the blade and a terrifying coldness he had never seen before.

Trembling, he tipped his chin up into the sharpened edge, tempting Damian. A small stream of blood trickled from the feeble cut he could not feel, he did not flinch or remove his eyes from Aaron's, a cruel smile stretched out across gaunt features again. Aaron's heart shifted at the sight of his merciless gaze. His steadfast grip on the polished weapon shifted, causing more crimson liquid to flow from the raw wound he had inflicted.

"I hope you know by now why I'm doing this." Damian chuckled, losing the grip on Aaron's neck.

 _Oh, I wonder why_? Aaron bit his lips in an attempt not to laugh. Aaron was convinced that he had gone crazy, since he could laugh in such a situation, but he was hungry, tired and delirious. "You want information." Aaron calmly stated, his mind the complete opposite.

"Turns out Emily was right after all, you are smart." Damian chuckled, keeping the weapon, before taking out a gun. "But somehow, I doubt that you wouldn't give it up, am I right?"

"You are." Aaron confirmed, not sure where Damian was leading with this.

"Then that's a shame." Damien's mouth curled up into a cruel smile, before promptly shooting him in the knee, making Aaron scream in pain, because god fucking damn it that was his knee. "Mother…fucker." Aaron hissed. The gunshot sounded as if it could crack a skull, as if the sound itself could purify the mind. Aaron thought of that. He thought of the liquified brains like fish guts in a blender. The bullet wound looks nothing like he'd expected from his extensive crime drama viewing whenever he had the time. Instead of a neat reddened hole it was oozing with dark congealing blood and the putrid smell was enough to initiate a gag reflex.

"This is a special kind of Scopolamine by the FSB. Scopolamine can cause confusion, agitation, rambling speech, hallucinations, and paranoia. Includes morphine inside it too." Damian chuckled, walking around the room. "If you tell me what Operation Coldstore is, I might just give this to you."

"So, if…I don't tell you what it is, you'll…kill me. But, if I agree… to tell you where it is, you'll dose me with Scopolamine, which is… essentially a truth serum of sorts to make me cooperate." Aaron winced, breathing heavily as the pain started setting in. God, this was not how the day was supposed to go for him. He had been looking forward to a good day off, maybe let his inner geek come out while playing on his Xbox, not getting kidnapped by his friend's ex boyfriend, who's a FSB agent together with his former fling.

"Jesus, you are smart." Damian commented. "Well, I wouldn't kill you. You'll just die from excessive bleeding, which is slow and painful and-"

"We are definitely not doing that." Emily frowned as she walked in. "We need the information. We can't just kill him, then we will lose our window of opportunity, Damian."

"What window of opportunity? The element of surprise?" Emily made an unintelligible sound as she ran her hands through her hair. "Just stab the syringe into his thigh or arm. I need to meet Chase soon, so you better hurry.” Emily scowled, exiting the room.

“Well,” Damian sniggered as he filled the syringe, “you heard the lady. Start talking.” Aaron’s heart rate accelerated in his chest as if it would explode, trying to squirm away, but Damian was stronger, holding his thigh in a secure position, before stabbing the needle into Aaron’s veins.

* * *

When the frustration builds and Hannah thinks she might explode - she takes a deep breath. She wants to shout, have a tantrum and beat her hands on the ground like a toddler. She wants to vent, let it out, but she doesn't want to say words she doesn't mean, be hurtful. It's just so easy to be cruel in that moment and then the damage is done. She tries not to think about how Nadia looked when she broke the news to her: just pure sorrow, the glint in her eyes gone in a sentence as she clutched onto Seth, tears welling in her eyes as Hannah looked away, trying not to feel guilty because everyone she loved had gotten hurt, and now it was Aaron’s turn.

The stress spreads through Hannah’s mind like ink on paper. She took in a deep, ragged breath before placing her hands, enclosed together, onto the table. The dread crept over her like an icy chill, numbing her brain, creeping down Hannah’s spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk. She doesn’t notice Chuck or Blakey, until Chuck places a hand on Hannah, making her look up. She regains her composure, running a hand through her hair.

“Hannah, you okay?” Blakey asks, and this is probably the first time he’s ever shown concern about her. She smiles tiredly and nods, as the two look at her with uncertainty, exchanging glances. “What do we have?” Hannah sighs as Chuck shows her a video on his tablet. She’s looking at a junction somewhere near Georgetown, which makes Hannah raise her eyebrow. “Chuck? What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“Okay so, due to President Kirkman’s agenda of adding more security features to every single city and neighbourhood, I was able to track Emily down because most of her route is covered with cameras. So if you follow the trail of CCTV cameras…”

“We’ll be able to find Aaron.” Hannah’s entire face brightened.

“Exactly, but this is incomplete. So I’m going to need some help piecing it together.”

“Work with the senior staff, they’re the only ones that know Aaron’s missing.” 

* * *

The lighting was dim and the air was thick with the scents of so many different foods. Emily tried not to gag as a waitress carrying a plate of seafood walked by, she never liked the smell of fish. The restaurant was full, Emily noted as she looked around at the busy tables. An old couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals. A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby looked on and frowned. She could see Chase from her peripheral vision, his head bent down as he spoke on the phone in a hushed voice.

“Hey, stranger.” Emily whispered in Russian as Chase lifted a finger to his lips. He continued talking, growing more agitated, before hanging up. He grunted, before looking up. “He has every intelligence agency looking for him and you. What are you doing here? You're going to get us in trouble.” Chase hissed, as Emily sat opposite him, smiling.

“Relax, I need a favor.” Emily whispered. “I need you to derail your investigation.” Chase started protesting when Emily hushed him, turning to smile at the concerned couple next to them. “Not completely, idiot. Just stall them. Jesus, Moscow was an idiot to choose you to infiltrate the Company.”

“I would like to point out that this plan is obviously flawed, and that Moscow was right to choose me. I can’t believe that you got caught on tape.” Chase retorted.

“By your agency. You were supposed to delete it.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“How was I supposed to know that Dianne Lewis would keep another copy to herself?” Chase shot back.

“How about Tim Beck? That CIA operative that gave Hannah Wells all the information? You were supposed to silence him. You’re lucky they haven't killed you yet.” Emily said, and with that, Chase fell silent. “Look, I’m sorry, just help me. Please?”

“No.” Chase sighed. “I'm out, I can't do this anymore. I'm not helping you destroy his life.”

“What?” Emily hissed, leaning forward. “Are you crazy, Adrian?”

“No, I'm sorry.” Chase said, standing up. “I'm sorry, Katerina.” Chase walked out, paying the bill while Emily was left in her seat. She dialed a number.

“Get me a secure line to the Kremlin. идентификационный номер 83V-R21, Katerina Yemelyanova. I need a file. Adrian Craioveanu.”


	2. dead man walking

Amy’s heart twisted and sunk with nerves as she sat in front of the computer. The white light enveloped her, coldly, as her hands shook. Her breaths came in sharp pants as she tried to gain control, but nothing was working. “You knew?” Amy asked, voice filled with emotion. She tried to breathe calmly, but every time she looked up, the proof was there. Proof she had known long before the page had loaded. Proof that her father was indeed alive.

“No, I had my doubts, but I couldn’t confirm them.” Hannah muttered, crossing her arms as the video - which was on loop - played again. “A CIA contact took this just yesterday.”

Her father was well built and well dressed, but in the blurry, grainy video - which was most likely taken on a phone, on top of a building - her father looked haggard and drained, his hair dishevelled as he walked up to an unknown woman. As the woman’s face became clearer, Amy’s frown deepened before realising that she had seen the woman before. She wiped away a few angry tears before clearing her throat.

“Hannah, I think I know this woman.” Amy pointed to the screen, pausing it. “I woke up one night and this woman was in my house with my dad, discussing something in Russian. Called herself Katerina Yemelyanova.” Amy looked up to Hannah, who was already calling people while typing on the laptop.

“Ritter, John, I need you to come here now.”

Three minutes later, Mike Ritter and John Foerstel came bursting in while Hannah brought up every file they had on Emily Rhodes. “Wells, what’s the matter?”

“Emily isn’t Emily Rhodes. She’s a woman called Katerina Yemelyanova. A Russian spy known as the Slavic Silhouette, an assassin credited with almost thirty assassinations - maybe more - with her time in the FSB. She couldn’t be the only one, so I digged further.” Hannah said, typing something into the computer. A list of names came up on screen, about five pages long. “These are all FSB agents in different US intelligence agencies. Since they all had US citizenship, no red flags were raised when they were employed.” Hannah printed out the list.

“Any Secret Service?” Mike asked, flipping through the pages.

“None, they’re mostly in the FBI, CIA, NSA and so on.” Hannah answered. “Whitaker was one, I’m surprised he didn’t rat her out.”

“Well,” John interrupted while smiling, “These agents are loyal to a fault. Hannah, if this is true, you’ll be the most decorated agent in the FBI- heck, US history.”

“I guess, I had a little help from Amy.” Hannah turned to smile at Amy, who beamed back. John’s smile grew a little tighter, before he made a few calls while Mike talked to Hannah.

“Well, Hannah. I guess you should be the one to tell the President all this, including the senior staff.” Mike smiled.

“Huh, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.” Hannah tried to smile back, but the worried expression came back. Mike must have sensed it, because he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay. Shore can take care of himself.”

“I know, but I can’t stop… worrying.”

“Well, how about that briefing now?” Mike asked as he escorted Hannah out.

* * *

When anxiety and fear grab him by the tongue and dry his mouth, Lyor doesn’t panic anymore. He's been there before, he knows the feeling, and knowing it makes it less scary. But, the betrayal of his closest friend still stings. Death by a thousand cuts. The entire room is silent.

“So,” Lyor says, breaking the silence, “Emily is a spy slash assassin named Katerina Yemelyanova, who currently has Aaron.”

“Yes. Have you guys gotten anywhere with tapes?” Hannah asks as she passes each of them a dossier on Emily- Katerina Yemelyanova. Lyor flips through, mouth going dry, because this reminds him so much of Greg, and because of all the kills Katerina - whoever the woman is - committed.

“Yes.” Kendra and Seth say as Seth passes back the dossier, blanching. “It leads to an apartment in the south of Washington Highlands.” The president is the only person that hasn’t said anything, and Lyor’s honestly afraid that he’s going through a factory reset kind of situation. Tom's mouth is agape as he flips through and everyone in the room can see how visibly angry he is. Suddenly, he throws the file across the room, startling the rest of them.

“Lyor, I want you to get me the Russian ambassador now. Mike, Agent Wells, Director Foerstel, I want you three to find me Katerina Yemelyanova and Aaron Shore, now.” Tom said. The trio paraded out of the office, together with the President and Kendra, so it was the two of them left. 

“Do you think we’ll get Aaron back?” Seth asked quietly.

“Statistically speaking, sixty percent of missing people that don’t come back are-”

“Fuck statistics, Lyor. I want your honest opinion.” Seth cut him off. “Honestly? Yes, because it’s Aaron. He never goes down without a fight.” Lyor said, and Lyor swore he could see a hint of a smile. Lyor actually thinks that they would get Aaron back, because what he said was true. Aaron Shore never goes down without a fight.

“Thank you, Lyor.” Seth said when Lyor was about to exit the room.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

* * *

No one ever said that Thomas Adam Kirkman was a weakling, so he sure wasn’t going to back down now. Tom fixed his tie, before Wyatt knocked on the door. 

“The Russian Ambassador is here, sir.” Wyatt said, opening the door. 

“Thank you Wyatt. Ambassador Petrov, it’s good to see you again.” Tom said, sticking out his hand to shake. He was going to try the diplomatic route, before going nuclear.

“Likewise, Mr President.” Petrov said, shaking his hand. They both sat down, and Tom had to do everything in his control not to scream at him.

“Ambassador, did you know why I called you here today?” Tom asked, and Petrov shook his head.

“It’s because I’ve gotten evidence that your country has planted Russian spies in our agencies.” Tom said, and he could see the Ambassador pale a little. “Especially Katerina Yemelyanova, alias Emily Rhodes.” Petrov began to sweat, and started speaking. “Mr President, I believe you have been seriously misinformed by your staffers-”

“No sir!” Tom interrupted, holding up a hand to stop Petrov. “I believe that I’m not. If you don’t pull out all of your agents, all of them, I will release every single name on that list.”

“Give me an hour, Mr President.” Petrov said, and Tom smiled.

“Thank you, Mr Ambassador.” Tom shook the ambassador's shaking hand. “That will be all.”

-

Aaron knew the effects had completely settled in, after all, Emily said that it took thirty minutes to one hour. He tried shouting for help when Damian wasn’t in, calling for anyone.

Damian chuckled, before returning to his spot at the corner of the room. With trembling hands, Aaron tried to break the zip ties, to no avail. He could hear Damian in front of him, speaking in Russian, probably. His vision keeps blurring, so Aaron decided that keeping both his eyes and mouth close would be better. His heart is pounding against his ears, as sweat rolls down his neck, his head feels like it's being dropped on the ground repeatedly. He has already spilled almost everything he knows, and he's ashamed that he couldn't hold out longer. The sound of the door slamming open startles Aaron, making him open his eyes. 

“We need to go to the Russian embassy now, Petrov is calling back all FSB agents. If we don’t go now, we’ll get charged with espionage.” Damian said frantically, so unlike him. “We need to go now.”

“How did you find out?” Emily asked, slamming the door, making it echo in the almost empty room.

“Ivanna called, all FSB agents are pulling out now, and if I had half a brain I would too.” Damian said, pacing around the room.

“We can't just leave. This guy has all the information about nuclear weapons, launch codes and matters about national security.” Emily hissed, and Aaron definitely did not like thinking about what they would do to him after all this was over. “Think how pleased the Kremlin will be. Get Basayev to give me thirty minutes tops.”

“I could only get twenty.”

“Good enough.”

* * *

"Hannah." John whispered, pulling her to the side as she was briefing the agents assisting them. "I don't think you should be on this investigation."

Hannah felt like cold water had splashed her. Not on the investigation? Not a chance in Hell. "What the fuck are you talking about? That spy is out there and you're asking me to not participate." Hannah hissed at John.

"You and I both know that this isn't about Katerina. She made it personal, and now you're compromised." John said unflinchingly as curious agents tried to eavesdrop, tapping his cane on the ground. "You can't afford to have feelings now, Hannah. Your head needs to be clear, and right now I know you're not." 

"I am!" Hannah protested.

"You're not. On the top, you're okay but deep down you're boiling with rage because she took someone you care about, and everyone can see that." John remarked, and Hannah knew what he said was true. In reality, Hannah was boiling with fury, and red knuckles from punching the wall in a fit of rage, and Hannah had to hold it all together for Aaron.

"Please, John. My head is clear." Hannah pleaded, and John sighed and hung his head in resignation. "Fine. But the moment I consider you to be an endangerment to the investigation and search and rescue, I'm pulling you out. Are we clear?" John spoke, running a hand through his hair. 

"Yes sir." Hannah replied, smiling as she went back to briefing the agents.

Hannah was going to walk back into the room when John stopped her, his phone in his hand, his face unreadable. “Remember what I said, Hannah.”

-

Hannah had never been to that part of Washington. It did not look like it was part of Washington. The sidewalks were littered with trash as people flicked cigarette buds onto the ground. There were barbed wires surrounding schools and educational centers, metal detectors in shopping malls. No, this wasn't the glitz and glamour Hannah's used to seeing in D.C. This was an entire different world. 

“Have you ever been here, Blakey?” Hannah asked, as some nineties music played from the car's radio. Blakey shook his head, bopping his head to the music, drumming his fingers. The rest of the car journey was filled with silence, just the constant purring of the car's engine. They pulled up to an apartment complex Seth had mentioned. There were cracks in the walls and the paint, which used to be white, was now a faint yellow with graffiti all over it. They both walked towards the management office. A short, skinny man - most likely a teenager - was there, using his phone.

“Hannah Wells, FBI.” Hannah said, showing her badge and the guy shoots up, smiling nervously.

“Uh, hi? How can I help you? I'm Noah Grant.” The boy greets.

“Where’s the manager?” Blakey asked, producing his own badge. The kid looked like he was about to bolt when a man placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, in which the boy visibly relaxed. “What’s the matter, Noah? The feds bothering you?” 

“No, sir.” The boy chuckled while the middle aged man looked at both of them with scrutiny. “I’ll take over, Noah. Send my regards to your mom and tell her I really liked the chicken she made.” The man smiled, and Noah thanked him before scurrying away.

“James Evans, anything wrong?” James introduced himself. 

"Is there a basement here?" Hannah asked, and the man visibly gulped before replying.

"Yes, why?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. "You want to raid the place? Get a warrant."

"That wasn't weird." Blakey sighed while they were walking away.

"Definitely not. Come on, I found another entrance." Hannah smiled, as Blakey grinned. “But first, I need to call for backup. God knows what John would do to me.”

* * *

“Director Foerstel is in your office, Sir.” Wyatt said, opening the door for him.

“Thank you, Wyatt." Tom thanked his secretary, before entering the room. "Director, any update?"

"Agent Wells found the compound where they might be keeping Aaron Shore." John said, and Tom felt relieved, as if a heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders, but there was a 'but' coming.

"But, the location isn't confirmed. At this point, I'll say it's a coin toss, Mr President." John remarked. "We're propositioning an agent at Sandy Point with the money, and hopefully Katerina will take the bait." 

Tom sighed, massaging his temple. The stress was taking a toll on him, causing a headache as John looked at Tom with concern. "Mr President?" John questioned.

"I want you to make sure this stays covert. Not a single American can know why we're raiding the building." Tom instructed, standing up to pace around. "I want Katerina captured alive, no matter what."

"Sir, if we do that, we'll be putting our agents in danger." John said, fiddling with his cane. "She's an unpredictable adversary with an unpredictable skill set.”

"So, you're saying that it's impossible to capture her alive?"

"No, Sir. It's just that casualties are inevitable, and at this point, I'm not risking any of my men just for her." 

"She's an American citizen, just like both of us!" Tom protested.

"Who killed her own and betrayed her own country. With all due respect, Sir, she's going to die either way. John said unflinchingly. "She'll get charged with treason, espionage and capital murder, which will result in-" 

"The death penalty." Tom groaned in frustration, tossing his glasses on the table. "Damn it!"

Tom paced around the room, the too familiar weight of burden back on his shoulders, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"Sir?" John spoke quietly. "What are your orders?" 

"Shoot to kill, Director. I want a live stream of the entire operation. " Tom said just as quietly as John, knowing that the relationship between Russia and them would get strained by the order.


End file.
